A Series of Small Victories
by Pokka
Summary: Adjustment takes time, and time takes love. Getting used to having her son will take awhile.
Diamond City truly is beautiful, she thinks, especially at night with all of the lights lit up like the Fourth of July and the billions of stars overhead. Katarina sits in the creaky old patio chair on Home Plate's small excuse of a balcony, Railroad flags flapping lazily above the city, a burning orange as bright as a flame signaling safety. Funnily enough, she feels anything but safe, anything but protected. That big green wall feels as flimsy as tissue paper, all her weapons like toys and her carefully built walls around her heart and mind are crumbling.

Her son is dead, and by her own hand, no less.

Well, not really. Sorta? The little boy sleeping inside would certainly beg to differ, but that just makes the facts sit heavier in her heart. Not that she isn't thankful for him. God, is she fucking _thankful_ for that boy. Some days, he's the only thing that keeps her going anymore, but damn if that smoking crater at the city's center doesn't act as a constant reminder.

Katarina puts her face in her hands and sighs, a deep, heavy thing that settles on her shoulders and make them bow beneath the weight. Her fingers work through her hair, shaking it loose as she slips the band around her wrist. The door behind her creaks, the hinges protesting, and she jumps, hand flying for the gun lying on the table beside her, but it's just Shaun.

"Oh," she's suddenly breathless, the inexplicable feeling that he somehow knew she was thinking about him washes over her as guilt colors her heart. "Hey, baby. What're you doing up?"

The boy rubs at an eye with his fist, the other squinting against the city lights, his too large night shirt fluttering in the breeze. Now that she thought about it, she's pretty sure he stole it from Nick last time he stayed at the agency. "I was waiting on you, but you never came."

A smile curls her lips, and she opens her arms to allow him to clamor up into her lap. "I thought you were sleeping," she says as he tucks his head against her shoulder, propping his legs up on the arm rest at her elbow. Any other kid would probably be too old to be held like this, but, then again, Shaun isn't any other kid. She isn't sure if it's because he was 'raised' in the Institute, or because they'd been separated for so long and he just wanted to make up for lost time or...or if it was just his _programming_...but she was thankful for it nonetheless. "It was already getting late when I came back from Nick's, and Pipes said you'd gone to bed."

Shaun tangles a lock of her hair around his finger, idly twirling it as he glances up at her through his lashes, warm brown eyes the color of whiskey reminding her of days long past and a love long gone. "Nat was getting tired and Aunt Piper was working on her newspaper. I didn't want to bother her, so I just went to bed."

Warmth floods Katarina's chest, sweeping away her earlier guilt. How'd she get so lucky to have such a sweet kid? She drops a kiss to the crown of his head, hugging him close. "I'm sorry. I thought you were already out when I came through."

"You usually read to me. I couldn't sleep."

"Ah, I do, don't I?" She says, rocking them gently as Percy yells his twenty-four hour wares down below. "Well, what story do you want to hear?" She smiles softly, feeling his hair tickle her chin as it shifts in the gentle wind. "I think I've memorized them all by now."

Shaun is quiet for a long time, the only sign that he was still awake was the occasional tug he gave to her hair. Katarina closes her eyes, enjoying the way the wind tosses her hair over her shoulders and dries the sweat between her shoulder blades.

"Will you...will you tell me about Dad?"

She stiffens immediately, eyes snapping open to look down at her son. Shaun looks up at her as he gnaws on his lip, lashes fluttering anxiously. Katarina swallows thickly, her gaze searching his face for any explanation to his curiosity. She looks away with a sigh, resigning herself to the knowledge that he'd eventually want to know.

"Well," she starts, fishing for a place to begin. "You have his eyes. The most beautiful shade of brown I've ever seen- never saw another like 'em." Shaun watches her intently, lip still trapped between his teeth and his finger tugging on her hair like it kept him anchored. "And his chin," she says as she touches her thumb to the little cluster of freckles just beneath his mouth. "And his nose." Her pointer finger taps the tip of his nose gently, thumb still on his chin, and she can't help mirroring the grin that lights up his face.

"What was he like?" He asks her retreating fingers, eyes reflecting the stars, hair as pale and snowy as her own turning technicolor in the neon.

Katarina hesitates, thinking, remembering. Nate was...he was so many things, all packed into one person. He was smart and kind and loving. He was strong and incredible and perfect. He just _was_. She couldn't even begin to describe who he was, how much he meant to her. She clears her throat, "Your dad was..he was the greatest man I've ever known." Shaun's face breaks into a dazzling smile, and it breaks her heart. "You're a lot like him, y'know."

"How?"

"Well, you both could build a vertibird with nothing but a handful of paper clips and some bubblegum. You're kind and thoughtful and funny." It seems impossible, but somehow his smile grows, a million megawatt grin that burns her from the inside out. Her vision blurs and her throat tightens, "He'd be so, _so_ proud of you."

Shaun's smile dims before flickering out completely, his brows drawing together in concern. He reaches up and swipes at a tear snaking down her cheek. "Oh, mom," he murmurs, throwing his arms around her neck and pulling her into a hug. Katarina pauses for a moment, hands hovering in that uncertain space between past and present, but she caves and pulls him closer, burying her face in his hair as her shoulders shake with grief. "I'm sorry." He says sadly, "I shouldn't have asked. I know it makes you sad."

She shakes her head, bringing her hand up and wiping at her eyes. "No. No, baby, don't be sorry." Katarina pulls away, fumbling her hand over the little side table to her left until she finds her Pip-Boy. "You have every right to ask about him. I just," she sighs, leaning back heavily into the chair. "I just-"

"Miss him?"

Katarina smiles sadly. "Very much." He watches as she brings the device into her lap, resting the cool plastic against his leg as her fingers pick at a little hatch on the end until it pops open. Carefully, she slips her fingers into the opening, and slides out a worn piece of paper, the edges nicked and stained and curled. "Do you want to see a picture of him?" She asks, her gaze flickering between Shaun and the photo, her fingers caressing the worn edges like a long lost lover.

Shaun nods vigorously. Of course he wants to see, he so desperately wants to know every detail, every little fact about his dad. Katarina's fingers shake slightly as she flips it over, allowing her son to take it into his small hands. He gasps, his eyes widening and his mouth hanging agape. The photo must've been from some sort of party, from what Shaun could guess. He tilts it so she can see it too, and he taps the middle of it with the tip of his finger, "Tell me about it."

She smiles, this one less sad and more fond, an outward sign of a well worn memory that she held close to her heart. "It's from our wedding," she says, the corners of her eyes crinkling at the thought. Her fingers, elegantly slim yet short, ghost over the face of the picture. "This is me," her finger hovers over herself, albeit a slightly younger and much less worn version, a version of his mother that looks much happier and somehow lighter, "and that's your dad." Katarina's nail barely touches the space right over Nate's heart.

Shaun tilts his head as he studies his father's features. He looks tall, his head a quite a few inches above his mother despite them sitting down, and he looks... _happy_. A certain kind of genuine happiness that confirms that the shot was candid. He has an arm around Katarina, one large hand spanning over the space of her ribcage and his dark skin a stark contrast to the blinding white of her dress. Shaun notes their expressions; the unbridled adoration shining plain as day on his mother's face as she watches her new husband laugh, a smile curling at her lips and her love practically swimming in her eyes, and the joy of his father, the crows feet that line his eyes with his mirth and the wide smile that radiates all over his face. His fingers skim over the photo, and he could imagine that this is what it felt like to physically touch love. He wishes for nothing more than his father to be here.

He hands the picture back off to his mother, and Katarina takes it with a smile. She tucks it back into the little compartment, and sets her Pip-Boy aside. "Alright, little man. I think it's way past your bedtime."

And just like that, the spell is broken, they're no longer the lost boy and his broken mother, but Katarina and Shaun Morell, family of two.

He tosses his head back with a small groan, turning to deadweight in his mother's arms as she hefts him up. "Awe, c'mon, mooooooooom."

"Nope, not working." She laughs, forcing him to stand as she wrenches open the hatch. "It's way past midnight, and no son of mine is going to turn into some late night degenerate."

"Now you sound like Mama Murphy," Shaun grumbles as he lowers himself down into the house, bare feet thumping softly on the wooden ladder.

Katarina snorts as she follows after him, latching the hatch before hopping off the ladder. "Ha ha, very funny. I don't need the Sight to see that you're tired."

"I'm not-" he's cut off by a yawn, his jaw cracking with the force of it. He tries again as he plops down on the bed, "I'm _not_ tired."

"Mhm, and I'm not the general of the Minutemen." She pushes his shoulders until he flops back onto the pillows and pulls his legs up onto the mattress. She pulls the big comforter up to his chin and drops a kiss to his forehead. "Get some sleep." She flicks off the lights, and turns to head downstairs, listening to the bed creak as Shaun rolls over.

"Night, mom. Love you."

Katarina stops, her mind buzzing and her heart thrumming in her chest. Every time he says those words, it's like a big gulp of air after having her head under water, it solidifies her resolve and proves that her decision wasn't a total mistake. She glances over her shoulder, and finds his back turned to her, his breathing even and deep. He's already asleep.

"I love you too, baby. I love you too."


End file.
